


Frozen, I Wait for You

by Oilux



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bill is a demon 'god' basically, BillDip, Blood, Demon Bill, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Human Sacrifice, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Rating May Change, Romance, Sacrifice Dipper, Soulmates, Tags May Change, and Dipper is his sacrifice, old world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-08-01 06:36:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16279520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oilux/pseuds/Oilux
Summary: Gravity Falls is a village that overlooks the ocean, surrounded by a thick forest that the people dare not go into. Dipper has grown up his whole life there, never once stepping further than the forest that always surrounded them. In their village, they were safe, and protected, and provided for. A powerful demon watches over them.Once every hundred years, a demon known only asCipheresdemands a sacrifice. It is a small price for them to pay for what he gives, for the food and favors and protection from the other demons; people don’t look down at the blessings they are given.And this century’s sacrifice is none other than Dipper Pines, whether he likes it or not.





	1. Soaked, the rain pours

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are! I've been wanting to post this for forever, let me tell you. 
> 
> Welcome to the first chapter! I can't remember how I got this idea, but I really want to give a shout out to RoboticPopSauce for encouraging me and helping me through writing this. It really meant a lot to me. 
> 
> Anyways, without further ado, enjoy!

The sky overhead was thick with clouds and the scent of water hung in the air. A storm was coming, about to drench the people who wandered about town minding their own business, without a care in the world. Still, a thickness hung over the air that wasn’t easy to ignore, and the people went about their business with their heads ducked low, getting to one point to another without much conversation. The town square was empty, no one dared go near it but a brave few souls. 

Dipper didn’t wake early that morning as he normally did. The wind beat a branch from a nearby tree against his window, waking him from slumber and pleasant dreams of seeing somewhere new. He didn’t care too much, despite missing out on more sleep, as a storm meant the perfect weather for him to stay home and finish his book, with warm food and drink by his side. The clouds looked ready to cry with raindrops at any second, but none fell yet. 

“Happy birthday, Dipdop!” A voice crashed through the monotony of his thoughts, like the thunder rolling in after the flash of lightning. Mabel stood in his doorway, hands on her hips and back straight, smiling happily at him. Dipper rubbed his eyes, trying to blink away the last shreds of sleep that clung to him. 

“Thanks, Mabes,” Dipper mumbled as he stretched, back popping in a couple places. He laid back down, no longer sitting up as he stared at Mabel. “No present?”

“It’s downstairs. Stan wants you up before noon. Great Uncle Ford might want you to waste away all your time in that library, but Stan sure doesn’t.” Mabel walked into Dipper’s room, plopping down on his bed and poking to get giggles and her hands batted away. “Come on! We’re twenty-three, are you going to spend the rest of our birthday in your room?”

“If I want to.” Dipper flopped back on the bed, hearing the rumble of thunder and then the light splattering of water as it began to rain. “I promised Ford I’d work in the library today.”

“It’s our birthday, Ford will completely understand if you don’t show up this once. It’s raining outside, it’s a good day to spend inside.” Mabel picked up a bag from at her feet, one that Dipper hadn’t noticed until that moment. He almost wondered how he didn’t notice, it was bright pink, she must have died it somehow. 

“Is that for me?” Dipper teased, knowing that it was. Mabel rolled her eyes, shoving the bag at him before she settled back down.

The cheap pink paper of the bag crumpled under his grip as he opened it, revealing the dark midnight blue material of a sweater. It was an old tradition that Dipper couldn’t even begin to think about where it started, with Mabel giving him the sweaters. Stitched on some of the softest yarn he had ever felt, were no words but the scenery of a night sky. Dipper brought it against his chest, burying his face against the soft yarn and happily sighing at the scent it had. It smelled of lilacs, his favorite.

“Thanks, Mabes.” Dipper rubbed the sweater against his face, finally getting out of bed. “I really love it.” She beamed at the praise, hugging him tightly as he stood.

“I knew you would, now come on! Hurry up and get your lazy butt downstairs. Stan is making his famous ‘Stancakes’ and I want to eat before noon today.” She laughed as she left him alone, finally giving him the privacy to change and ready for the day. 

An hour later with a stomach full of pancakes, he was racing out of the house, the book he had just finished tucked underneath his arm. The rain started in a light drizzle, so Dipper stuck the book underneath his new sweater as he walked, protecting it from the rain. The town had gained a sleepy quality to it that happened as it rained, everyone heading inside to avoid being soaked. Dipper didn’t mind it, not even as his hair stuck to his forehead as it got wet. 

He passed through the town square, glancing at the main area. There was nothing, as there hadn’t been his whole life, but everyone felt the same sense of dread that he felt wandering by. The demon was due to choose his next sacrifice, and everyone wanted it to be over with so they would know who was chosen. Dipper wished that it would never come, he didn’t want to know which one of his friends was going to be taken away. What if it was Mabel? The demon, _Cipheres_ , had never made an appearance in Dipper’s lifetime, and he hoped that he never did. Dipper had no desire to entertain whatever selfish creature demanded a sacrifice. Even though so many people said they were lucky, _Cipheres_ only demanded a sacrifice every one hundred years, some demons that watched over the lands demanded monthly, sometimes daily sacrifices. That didn’t excuse any in Dipper’s opinion.

No name was written in the courtyard, Dipper blinked rain out of his eyes as he rushed through the streets, finally getting to the library and wiping the water off his face. It wasn’t raining terribly, but walking quickly had caused it to build up and he was left soaking, shaking like a cat as he stripped off his sweater. Mabel would get upset if he completely ruined all of her hard work. No one was in the small library, but Ford had started a small fire in the fireplace, and it was warm and cozy. Next to the fire, furiously writing notes like his life depended on it, was Ford. Dipper gave him a chipper hello as he returned the book, setting it aside to be reshelved later and sitting next to his uncle by the fire. 

“Dipper, my boy, good to see you.” Ford clapped a hand on Dipper’s shoulder, lightly shaking him. He looked tired, like he had spent all night awake doing his research. Knowing Ford, he probably had. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Grunkle Ford.” Dipper sat down on the stone in front of the fire, throwing another log in to keep himself warm. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing towards the door. “Have you heard anything about the naming?”

“Nothing yet. _Cipheres_ hasn’t decided yet. Though it should be any day now.” Ford said, putting his research aside. Thunder crashed again and lightning flashed through the window a moment later. “You and Mabel won’t be chosen.”

Dipper pursed his lips, not replying for a moment. There was never a pattern, or at least if there was, Dipper hadn’t seen it. It seemed like the longer that it went with no name appearing in the town square, the more antsy everyone seemed to get. Ford gave him a reassuring smile, one that Dipper tried to match but failed miserably at. 

“You’ll be fine, you worry too much and you’ll give yourself wrinkles like me before you’re even twenty-five.” Ford shuffled his papers together, sticking them into the book he had set aside. Dipper nodded, trying to reassure himself. It was silly to worry, but that didn’t make it go away. Though almost every person he talked to who was his age was frightened of being chosen. 

“Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked cautiously, his voice small. “Do you know what happens to them after they’re chosen?” 

Ford’s bushy salt and pepper brows furrowed for a moment before they softened, but it did little to ease the tension in Dipper’s chest. “No one does,” Ford explained, not looking Dipper in the eye. “ _Cipheres_ says he doesn’t harm them, but they’re sacrifices. I can’t imagine they live long. He says that we get his protection, and can talk to him to ask for favors, but honestly, I don’t know if anyone has tried. I certainly haven’t.”

Dipper’s mind flashed to the cliff, where he could see the solid black altar where _Cipheres_ accepted his sacrifices. Last time, it had been a girl, who had tried to escape the demand for her before the town had finally dragged her up there and done the deed themselves, the priests watching from their church. Dipper didn’t blame her, the thought of having to be a sacrifice to the whims of a demon that almost no one had seen before was a terrifying thought.

“Is he even real?” Dipper asked suddenly, looking at Ford. Thunder crashed overhead, a bright white flashing in the room from the lightning. He grabbed one of the softer chairs, dragging it close to the fire and trying to keep the bitterness from his tone as he sat down. “He doesn’t do anything to prove he’s there, we only have stories, I seriously don’t think anything would happen if we didn’t give him a sacrifice.”

The thunder cracked loudly after he was done, like _Cipheres_ had heard his words and was protesting. Books shook on the shelves, making both Dipper and Ford wince; but Dipper didn’t take back his words, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. It was a coincidence, nothing more. Ford rubbed at his eyes, a sigh passing his lips.

“I can’t tell you what to believe in, Dipper.” He ended up saying. “It must be frightening, being where you are right now, but there’s nothing either of us can do about it. _Cipheres_ will pick who he picks and there isn’t a thing in the world anyone can do about it. He doesn’t even show up to take his own sacrifices or do the duties a normal watchful demon would do.”

“Exactly, he’s never here. How do we all know this is real?” Dipper huffed as Ford stared at him, that look that told Dipper he was complaining too much. “I don’t want Mabel to be chosen.” Dipper eventually confessed, arms still tightly wrapped around himself. 

“I’m sure neither of you will be chosen. If it makes you feel better, I know there’s a book in here about _Cipheres’_ last ten sacrifices. He certainly has been doing this a while.” Ford finally rose, shuffling papers and hooks together. “I need to get home before it gets too late, I forgot to sleep last night and if Stanley found out; he would have my hide. Except he’d word it cruder.” Ford laughed lightly, making sure that he had everything. “Have a good day here, thanks for working and closing it down.” 

“Thanks, Ford.” Dipper nodded to his uncle, watching the other man pick up his work. His uncle smiled at him, finally disappearing outside into the rain, bringing a small burst of cold air in that had Dipper shivering slightly on the chair. 

Dipper rubbed his forehead, the lightning and thunder creating such a storm outside that didn’t seem to be anywhere close to finishing. Dipper pulled his newest book to his knees, intent on reading the evening away as he waited for the storm to die down enough for him to walk home. He grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the chair, draping it over his legs as he lost himself in the written world, escaping his own.

He read until he reached further than he thought he would get, until the words started to blur and the fire had nearly died, even with his attempts to throw more logs onto the fire wouldn’t keep it lit anymore. He was still there when the storm finally died down from vicious to light, the pitter patter of rain against the roof of the library attempting to lull him to sleep. And they would have, if it hadn’t been for the door suddenly slamming open, a couple people there that Dipper had only seen a couple times in his life. 

“That’s him," one said, the first one to walk in. Dipper blinked the sleep out of his eyes, letting his book fall into his lap. “Dipper, holy shit. You gotta come see this.”

“What? What happened?” Dread, like ice, coiled in his stomach as he stood, the book falling to the floor. “Is it-”

“It’s the name.” The other guy said, the rain picking up again behind him. Dipper felt like he was going to throw up. It was Mabel, it had to be Mabel, if it wasn’t they wouldn’t be there, worrying him over nothing.

“It’s not Mabel, is it?” Dipper asked softly, wishing beyond everything he had, that it wasn’t Mabel. The other man shook his head, and the relief that Dipper felt was unrivaled, and then the next words came out of the man's mouth and time stopped.

“It’s not Mabel’s name, it’s yours.”


	2. Warm, my blood spills around me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood and human sacrifice
> 
> Thanks for hanging around until chapter two! I've had a super rough day, so I hope this makes everyone's day a bit better!

The rain fell lightly, a mistful shower as Dipper rushed into the town square, pushing past the people who were there. Seared onto the concrete was the last remains of blue fire, which trailed off into nothing as the rain continued to come down, was his name. Someone threw a jacket over Dipper’s shoulders, but everyone else seemed to keep their distance from him, like he was untouchable.

_Mason Pines_

It was burned onto the ground and Dipper’s mind made him think about all the other names that had been burned there, the last person who had felt this way, watching as ash and black marks were already starting to be washed away by the rain. He shuddered at the cold, blinking harshly, hoping he had fallen asleep in the chair and this was all some terrible dream.

In a few short seconds, maybe even minutes, his name was gone from the ground and he was left staring blankly as he tried to think. His brain refused to work though, only wanting to think about what this meant. He had a day. That was all that was left of his real life, a day to get his life together and say his goodbyes, and then go to the altar like the sacrifice he was.

“Come on, Dipper.” A large hand clapped his shoulder, Stan a steady and warm presence behind him as he led Dipper away from the town square. “Let’s get you home.”

Dipper couldn’t even bring himself to nod, staring up at Stan with wide brown eyes as the older man led him back to the shack. Inside was warm, making him realize he was freezing, soaking from the rain with his hands shaking slightly, his fingertips feeling numb.

Stan sat him in front of the fire, stripping him on the wet jacket and getting a blanket. It smelled musty, like mothballs, but it smelled like Stan, and his numb fingers gripped at it to drag it against him. Before he knew it, Stan had given him new clothes, placing them in his lap and helping Dipper strip off his wet shirt, like he used to do when he was little. Dipper felt better with the new shirt and blanket wrapped once more around his shoulders.

“It’s okay, kid,” Stan reassured, sitting down heavily next to Dipper. “Mabel doesn’t know yet, but Ford told me what he heard. It’s gonna be okay.”

Dipper looked up at his uncle, eyes still wide and unsure. Why was he chosen? Why was it his name written down in the square and not someone else’s? The last sacrifice had been forced onto the pedestal for her sacrifice, Dipper would be too, and if the demon was real, there was no way to know how far he’d go to force Dipper to his side. And only a day, less than twenty-four hours, to say goodbye to everyone, it sounded terrible. How could he wrap up his entire life in just one day?

“Kid, are you listening to me?” Stan’s voice finally got through to him, making Dipper realize he had just been staring blankly ahead. Stan’s face softened slightly when he saw Dipper snap back into focus. He put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder, gently trying to calm him down.

“It’s okay, Dipper,” Stan said softly. “You’re gonna be fine. Come on, let’s get you to bed and we can talk in the morning.”

“No, Stan, I don’t want to,” Dipper said, sitting firmly when Stan tried to get him to rise. Stan didn’t listen to him, trying to get him up. “Stan I don’t want to go to bed.”

“I know you don’t,” Stan said just as softly, stopping his movements. He got Dipper to rise, but only moved him to sit in the armchair that Stan normally sat in. “I don’t want you to go either, Dipper. But we’ll think about this in the morning, okay? Just go to sleep for now.”

Dipper could only think to nod, Stan draped the blanket over him once again, turning out the other lights so that the only thing lighting the room was the fire. Dipper curled up slightly, knees pressing against his chest. There wasn’t a lot of time, not enough time. He fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

The rain was still falling when Dipper woke up, his back stiff and sounds of quiet murmuring coming from the kitchen. He blinked away the sleep from his eyes, glancing towards the kitchen. Mabel, Stan, and Ford were all sitting in the kitchen, talking in quiet hushed whispers that Dipper couldn’t make out. He let his feet hit the floor, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as the memories of the past day came crashing down around him. 

He had been chosen. Some demon trying to be a god had decided that they wanted Dipper, that he was the sole human that could be a good sacrifice. A muffled sob came from the kitchen, Mabel leaned against the table as she covered her eyes, and Dipper couldn’t look away. Stan was right by her side, bringing her in for a hug, while Ford was staring at the ground, unable to say anything.

Dipper couldn’t do this. He couldn’t make them watch-the whole village would come to watch-him be taken. They would all come to gawk and see him be taken, see the event that only happened once in a hundred years. He couldn’t make Mabel and Stan and Ford watch him be taken. 

He had twenty-four hours left to do what he wanted. People had been known to go before, some pushed the times that they had to see what would happen. Dipper couldn’t move for a moment, stuck the chair as indecisiveness ran through him. They hadn’t noticed he was awake yet. Slowly, Dipper rose from his place, creeping up closer to the kitchen, trying to listen in on what they were saying. 

“They can’t-they can’t take him.” Mabel’s voice cracked over the words. “I’ll go in his place, or something, please they really can’t take him.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Stan said with a sigh. “We can get some money together and send him off...but some of the things I’ve heard about what happens if whoever gets sacrificed doesn’t go, it’s not good.”

“We have to do _something,”_ Mabel snapped, rounding on Stan. “You can’t really expect to just leave him to some monster because that monster wants him.”

“Mabel, that’s not what he’s saying,” Ford intervened. “We’ll think of something.”

Their conversation continued in hushed whispers as Dipper pulled away, not wanting to be anywhere near them anymore. He threw the blanket to the floor, bolting outside and into the rain. He thought he could hear them calling after him, but it could also could have been the thrum of the rain, of the rush of blood in his ears. Dipper didn’t know where he was running, where he even was trying to go, until he collapsed on the steps of the church, tears stinging at his eyes and his lungs burning. Someone grasped his arm, helping him up and inside. 

“You’re not the first to come to us," a voice spoke. Dipper didn’t recognize him, but he didn’t have to. “You won’t be the last sacrifice.” 

The inside of the church was just as cold as outside, and unlike home they offered no blankets and comforting words. The priest brought him inside before anyone could notice, leading him back to a room that he had never seen before. Worship wasn’t very common in their town, not when the only church they had worshipped a demon that most had never seen before.

Someone brought him new clothes to wear, a towel to dry his hair, a comforting presence beside him. Dipper was dressed in all white, gold hems to the shirt and pants he was given. Another priest dried his hair, attempting to comb back the curls and leave him looking somewhat ready for what was going to happen. Dipper stood, the priestess who had been about to decorate his body and hair with golden jewels paused, looking up at Dipper.

“The time for leaving never came," she said softly. “Sit down and let us finish. We will add your name to the wall and then you may go to the altar. _Cipheres_ has chosen you, you are lucky to have been chosen.”

She looked down, and Dipper suddenly realized that she, and probably many of the other followers there, would have loved to have been the one chosen. They would have been happy to go to _Cipheres_ side, to have worshipped a demon for the rest of eternity. Why couldn’t one of them have been chosen? Why did it have to be him instead?

Dipper plopped down next to her on the pew once more, letting her braid jewels into his hair so he would be every bit the proper sacrifice he was. Dipper let his hands clench into fists at his side, he refused to look at anything but the floor.

Eventually, the priestess, whoever she was, led him to another room, which had the wall of names. There were only ten, his name being the eleventh, which said the date that the person was born, and the day they were sacrificed. Dipper couldn’t help but stare at it, his birth name written in fine script in the marble stone. Dipper walked up to it, feeling the carved letters underneath his fingers, then going over his birthday. The names of the other sacrifices stood out to him, all these people who had lost their lives before him.

Dipper stared for a while, looking at dates and names that wrapped around his mind in a mix that all should mean something but his mind couldn’t make it out. All of the dates were so eerily similar, Dipper finally started to pay attention to them. Each date was either on or at most a couple of days after their birthday. On their twenty-third birthday. Dipper’s head spun as he looked around the room, finding it empty of souls except his own.

The thought that this demon could have been watching him from the start made his stomach turn. Dipper turned to look at the door, seeing the priest from earlier, the one who had brought him inside, return. Dipper shook his head at the man, walking past him, and right outside. The rain was still pouring, heavier than before. It formed in puddles by his feet, leaving him soaked.

Other priests were there. The town was already there, staring at him as the rain poured around them. Some of them held lanterns and candles, saved and blocked by hands shaking in the cold, but most of them had nothing in their hands, staring blankly, but sadly at him as two of the priests came forward, each of them grasping his biceps to prevent him from running. Yet with the church behind his back, and the whole village in front of him, there was no running to be had from Dipper. 

The priests kept a harsh grip on him as they forced his numb feet to walk forward towards the altar. It faced the cliff, near the edge and almost close enough to go tumbling into the ocean. Onyx in color, the old parts of rope were still attached to where they had tied up the last sacrifice. No one ever came near it unless they were performing the sacrifice, or unless they were cleaning up the blood afterwards.

“I don’t want to go,” Dipper whispered, his voice softer than the rain and immediately drowned out. If the people heard him, they didn’t reply as the priests came forward, getting him onto the altar and tying his hands above his head. “I don’t want to go.”

The rain splattered against his face as the priests set to work, paying no mind to how Dipper curled up, trying to conserve heat and protect himself. It didn’t last for long before someone was grasping at his ankles, forcing him to stretch out on top of the altar. A perfect sacrificial lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

“ _Cipheres,_ we have heard your demand for a sacrifice!” the priest shouted, somehow almost making the rain itself quiet for a moment so he could be heard. “May this sacrifice appease you for the next century, and leave us with a bountiful life.”

Tears mingled with the rain as Dipper looked up, the flash of a knife catching in the thunder, and lightning igniting the blade to where it almost looked like it was on fire, before it fell, plunging into his stomach with a twist of pain and a spurt of blood. 

And the world went dark around him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started NaNoWriMo this month, wish me luck!
> 
> Check out my[ tumblr](http://oilux.tumblr.com/) for more updates and to get sneak previews at new works!


	3. Bloody, I see you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> National novel writing month is finally over!! I never thought it would end. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the chapter!!

He wished the world had stayed dark around him. 

The blissful peace of darkness didn’t last. The world blinked back into focus as Dipper struggled to see through his own tears and the rain, someone looking over him with panicked but reassuring touches. He almost thought it was Mabel for a moment, having come to save him after this terrible event, but gloved hands were different from Mabel’s, and the fingers were too long, too cold, to be hers. Dipper gasped in air, watching it come out in small puffs of air from the cold. 

“Hello, my little sacrifice. I’m glad that you came back to the world.” 

Dipper blinked away the tears, looking up at the man. He was tall, with golden blond hair sitting on his head. His cheekbones were sharp, the angles of his face just a little too crisp to be natural. Dipper moved back from him, away from the touches on his cheek, but sharp pain erupted from his stomach, making him cry out in pain.

“Wait a second, don’t move just yet. Dying and coming back is a hard thing to accomplish for your body,” the man- _demon_ Dipper’s mind corrected-soothed as he put a firm hand on Dipper’s shoulder, the other on his stomach. Despite the rain that fell, none seemed to truly land on the man, unlike Dipper who was still wet and shaking on the altar. His blood had fallen off the edges, washed away before it could land on the stone ground beneath them.

The demon pressed down on his stomach, hard enough to make Dipper cry out again to plead with him to stop, but _Cipheres_ didn’t, pressing down even harder despite the cries Dipper was letting past his lips. The world went hazy, dark around him and finally, the pressure released, leaving Dipper panting, gasping, trying to ease himself of the memory of pain that had finally stopped.

“They dug the knife in deep this time, didn’t they?” _Cipheres_ asked, getting a huff from Dipper. He pushed the demon away, curling up on the stone for a moment as the world faded in and out, trying to take in everything that had changed.

The town was no longer surrounding him. The people who had dragged him up, who had held him down and stabbed him were gone, leaving him with a demon and bloodstained clothes. Dipper carefully pushed himself up, arms shaking as he looked down at his stomach. The fabric was torn, and decorating on his skin was what looked like black ink. A tattoo had never been a part of his plan, but it seemed that was decided for him along with his sacrifice. Dipper looked around the empty land, even the houses slightly further away from them looked abandoned, like there had never been anyone there before.

“I died?” Dipper asked, turning back to the demon. _Cipheres_ looked at him with a solemn nod, eventually moving to stand in front of Dipper.

“You were a sacrifice, I thought you’d be familiar with the term.” _Cipheres_ put his hands on either side of Dipper, preventing him from moving. “The last time that they had a sacrifice they didn’t stab so hard though.”

Dipper could only nod. What else was there to do? Even from the small distance between them, he could feel how warm _Cipheres_ was, like he radiated heat and fire that didn’t exist. _Cipheres_ reached up, touching at Dipper’s cheek, making sure that he was looking at the demon. His eyes were dark, deep, Dipper could have sworn that he saw the universe stare back, infinite possibilities and infinite solutions. 

A shiver went down his spine, his body reminding him how cold and hurt he still was. The demon stripped off his jacket, placing it around Dipper’s shoulders. It was so warm, he started to feel a bit better as his shaking fingers grasped the fabric a bit tighter. They stared at each other, and it took Dipper a moment to realize he was going to have to be the one to say something, because this demon wasn’t going to.

“You’re _Cipheres,”_ Dipper mumbled. The demon nodded. “You wanted me as a sacrifice.”

“I did,” the demon admitted. He didn’t seem to care too much though, reaching out to grasp Dipper’s arm, his touch like fire against his cold skin. Dipper tried to pull back, but _Cipheres’_ grip was like a vice, refusing to let him go. Even worse, the demon leaned closer, seeming to want to get close to him. “You’re even better than I imagined.”

The demon pulled hard on his arm, yanking him off the altar and into _Cipheres_ chest. His face was hidden for the briefest of seconds before Dipper pulled back, even though his body desperately wanted to cling to the warmth the demon offered, and his mouth dropped open in shock. 

They were no longer standing out in the rain, but instead, they were standing in the middle of a lavishly decorated room, a fire burning brightly in the fireplace, a bookcase near a large window that had rain pouring against it. Dipper could just barely make out the small village he had called home for his entire life through the rain. Connecting the house to the cliff was a thin stairway, not held up by anything, and at the base of the stairs rested the altar he had been sitting on moments before. Dipper looked up and around the room, staring at the finely decorated welcoming room. 

 _Cipheres_ didn’t spend too much time at his side. Dipper was left staring, gaping, at the room he was brought into, wondering what in the world he had done to deserve this. Wasn’t he supposed to be dead? Wasn’t he supposed to be dancing with his ancestors, in whatever afterlife the world provided? Instead, he was watching as the demon walked over to the fireplace, a large plush chair appearing from nowhere for the demon to sit in.

“A-Aren’t I supposed to be dead?” Dipper asked in a soft voice, still shivering from the rain. He found himself following after _Cipheres,_ getting closer to the fire to warm up. The demon looked at him, leaning his head against his hand. 

“What good does a dead sacrifice get me? And you did die, not for very long though,” _Cipheres_ scoffed, almost looking disappointed. 

“That’s what a sacrifice is. It’s an offering to kill.” Dipper realized he was still wearing the demons jacket, and took it off to hand it back to him. The demon took it after a moment, the fire burning just a little bit brighter.

“A sacrifice is simply an offering to a higher power. I don’t see what good a dead sacrifice will get me." Another chair appeared, one that was meant for Dipper to sit in, which he did after a moment. “You really think I killed all of them?”

 _‘Yes,’_ Dipper thought immediately, but didn’t say that, his lips drawing down in a slight frown. The demon let out a noise that almost sounded like a laugh, but it was too choppy, too short to really be a laugh.

“You’re right, I did,” _Cipheres_ admitted. Dipper drew back in his seat, glancing towards the door before a hand settled on the chair next to him. In the quick glance away, _Cipheres_ had risen from his seat and was staring at him, those golden eyes looking at him and all but demanding he answer for this thoughts. “I ate one of them. The others I tore their throats out, the screams get annoying after a while.”

Dipper looked away, fighting back the bile that rose at the images his mind created. The demon laughed again, sitting back down with a hearty guffaw that only confused Dipper more. Again, he glanced at the door, his mind trying to decide if it was worth it or not to make a run for it. Why was this demon keeping him here just to toy with him?

“Oh, quit freaking out so much. I was only joking. If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. I swear every time I get a new sacrifice they know less and less about why they’re here.” _Cipheres_ rolled his eyes, looking up at the door that Dipper was still eyeing. With a wave of the demon's hand, a thick lock appeared over the door, the handle completely disappearing. “You need to calm down.”

“Excuse me for not being comfortable around the demon I’m a sacrifice for,” Dipper snapped. “This isn’t exactly a pleasant experience.”

“It never is, in the beginning,” _Cipheres_ laughed. It all seemed to be a game to him. “Are you going to sit there and complain or do you want me to explain why I brought you here?”

Dipper turned from the door, staring at the demon in front of him. _Cipheres_ oozed power, leaning a head against his hand and not seeming to care about whatever was going on around him. He crossed one leg over the other, looking as though he had never had to deal with anything this terrible before. Dipper shook his head, staring at the demon.

“It’s been a thousand years, you would think that the information would have stayed with the humans.” _Cipheres_ sighed. “Don’t you have little human worshipers of me for this reason? The last sacrifice was so scared, it was funny. Your little town-”

“Dragged her up there and sacrificed her because she wouldn’t.” Just like himself. Dipper‘s fingers tapped against his thigh. “Just tell me already!”

“No need to get so upset.” _Cipheres_ rolled his eyes. “It’s the same thing that I’ve asked for a thousand years, I want a human here. The manor here is large and I spend most of my time doing what needs to be done. I need a human to look after the house and make sure everything’s okay.”

“You brought me here because you need a housekeeper?” Dipper asked, glancing around at the living room. It looked immaculately clean, like it had never seen a speck of dust before. “ _Cipheres,_ not that I’m complaining-”

“Then don’t complain,” _Cipheres_ interrupted with ease. “This is what I’ve brought you for and this is what I expect you to do. And _Cipheres_ is such a formal name, why don’t you call me Cipher instead?”

Dipper gave a slow nod, not sure what else to say. He wished he had stayed at home, that he had grabbed anything from his old life to bring with him, but the only thing he had was the clothing the priests had given him, and somehow that was more daunting than anything else before.

“I want to go to bed,” Dipper said softly, face heating as he had to hold back the wave of tears that suddenly sprung up. Crying, why was he always crying? He had never cried this much before.

Cipher looked surprised, but didn’t say anything, simply nodding. Dipper’s head spun as he got up, following behind the demon. What kind of room would he even be staying in? Would he be in whatever dungeon this place had, chained up at night like some kind of stray dog? Or would Cipher expect him to share the same bed, not caring if it was something Dipper wanted? What if-

“You think too much,” Cipher’s too cheery voice chimed, almost sounding amused as he stopped at a plain looking door. Above it, in the wood, there were small little stars, each one different from the last, ten in all. 

Cipher tapped on the door and it swung open, revealing the contents inside. Dipper could do little more than stare in awe at the room around him, stepping inside of it slowly. There was a large, four-poster bed complete with a white, sheer canopy, a large bookcase spanning an entire wall, a nice window seat with plenty of cushions, and even a fireplace. If his family had the kind of money, this was exactly what he would have imagined his dream room to look like.

“This is mine?” Dipper asked, practically twirling in place as he tried to look all around the room. There was no answer back to him, making him turn towards the door only to see that Cipher had disappeared and Dipper was left on his own.

He shut the door behind himself after a moment, moving further into the room and checking out the adjoining bathroom and the closet. It was built big, like multiple people were meant to stay there instead of just him. Dipper found fresh clothes waiting for him in the closet, and the books on the shelves were just calling his name as he looked out the window.

Before him, spread out was the town he had grown up in. It had felt so small before, and yet now looking at it, it seemed so large, a thousand twinkling lights from windows that looked like stars. 

He hated the sight of it. 

Tears gathered in his eyes as he threw himself onto the bed, cringing at the smell of dust and mothballs hitting his nose from the sheets below. The tears poured down his cheeks in hot trails as he cried until he fell asleep, still clutching at the dusty sheets like they would offer some kind of reprieve. He hoped that when he woke up, he found larn that everything had just been a dream, a terrible, terrible dream that he would never have to dream again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want more chapters? Please leave a comment!!
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	4. Agitated, I leave you be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Another chapter! Enjoy!

The storm was still going on as Dipper woke, blinking away the heavy feeling in his eyes. He rubbed at them to try to get rid of the feeling in his eyes, but the feeling didn’t ease, and Dipper couldn’t do much else. He shifted to get up, looking down at once pristine white clothes he had been wearing. They were crinkled, dirty from sitting on the altar, stained with the rain that was still pouring in buckets. 

The closet was large, filled with a variety of clothes that would have been good for any season of the year. He looked at them all, eventually picking up a dark blue sweater and a pair of comfortable pants. The entire manor was going to be needing cleaning, and he wanted to be comfortable cleaning it. 

It was daytime, but the house was still dark, like it was the middle of the night. There were doors on each side of the hall as he made his way to the staircase, but not much else as he made his way down to the hall he had been brought in. On the front door, there was a lock, shining brightly with silver as Dipper went to examine it. 

“It’s not going to open,” Cipher’s voice came from behind him, making Dipper jump as he whipped around to look at the demon. He stood as proudly as he did last night, shoulders thrown back and hands in front of him. 

“I-I know that.” Dipper turned back around, looking at the lock once more before he shoved his hands into the pocket of his sweater. “I just wanted to check.”

“So you weren’t planning to leave?” Cipher shot right back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he caught Dipper in his lie. Dipper’s cheeks tinted pink, but he didn’t reply as he turned away from the door.

“You wanted me to do some housekeeping?” Dipper walked into the room they had been in last night, looking at the table and swiping a finger along the surface of it. “There’s hardly a speck of dust in this place.”

“It’s a large mansion, it needs looking after, and I have better things to do,” Cipher said with a shrug, not exactly looking at Dipper.

“I just can’t believe you chose me as a housekeeper,” Dipper said with a small laugh, moving out of the room. He had to find the kitchen, that was probably going to be the first place that he found the supplies in, but he had no idea where to start looking. Behind him, he could feel Cipher following, but he didn't say anything to the demon. 

The first door he tried led to a hallway, which Dipper expected. He was quiet as he looked over the hallway, a couple portraits on the wall but otherwise nothing. It seemed to stretch on forever as Dipper looked at it, but he didn’t enter. There had to be another door for him to try. 

“Not like that option?” Cipher asked behind him, thoroughly amused. Dipper turned to look at him, but the demon offered no help at all as they stared at each other. 

“Not really,” Dipper ended up saying. “Don’t you have demon work to be doing?”

“Demon work?” Cipher asked with a chuckle, looking amused by Dipper. “Demons work when demons want to. As it is, no one in your little town is trying to summon me, so I have plenty of time to walk around and bother you.”

“Why do you want to bother me?” Dipper asked instead. “You wanted a housekeeper, so I’m just trying to find the kitchen so I can start cleaning.”

“You’ll get used to the layout eventually. It’s rather easy actually. You might struggle for a while though.” Bill chuckled again, but it was a bit dry at the look that Dipper gave him. 

Dipper tried another door, which led to another hallway that looked almost exactly the same as the one before him. He glanced back to make sure that he hadn’t accidentally opened the other one twice, but it was a different door, just a very similar hallway. 

He slowly stepped into the hallway, Cipher trailing after him as silence descended over them. Dipper glanced back to make sure that Cipher was still behind him, only to get a smirk from the demon in return. There was no help as he walked down the hall, identical doors passing him by. Every couple of steps, he would see a table, with a vase of flowers that was always changing, but always some kind of yellow color. 

“How long do hallways go on for in your house?” Dipper asked, glancing back at Cipher as they continued to walk. 

“As long as it needs to,” Cipher answered with ease. “We can always use the chance to talk to each other and get to know each other.”

“This is not going to be some weird affair where you get to sleep with your housekeeper,” Dipper pointed out. Cipher laughed, a soft bark of laughter that made Dipper smile slightly too, but he did his best to hide it from Cipher.

They passed by a portrait, one of Bill that Dipper almost didn’t recognize. If he could have seen the tyrants of old that they talked about, this was what Dipper would have imagined them as. Cipher was sitting in a throne, legs crossed in front of him on a throne that looked to be made of bones. A jewel encrusted crown sat on top of Cipher’s head, with his golden hair acting like a halo around him. 

“Do you like it?” Cipher’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, making Dipper turn towards the demon. He rolled his eyes at the demon, resisting the urge to push him away but instead walking quickly down the hall, pretending he hadn’t been staring at the portrait. 

“It’s tacky,” Dipper said flatly. Cipher’s laugh followed him, echoing in his ears as he made his way through the twists and turns of the halls. The heels of Cipher’s dress shoes was the only sound besides Dipper’s heart beating in his ears as they continued to walk. 

“Tacky? You wound me so,” Cipher practically cackled behind him, before he moved forward, walking next to Dipper instead of behind him.

Dipper rolled his eyes again, not sure what they were even doing. He opened a random door, only to be presented with a blank wall and another cackle of laughter from Cipher behind him. Dipper slowly shut the door once more, not glancing at Cipher as he moved further down the hall and trying another door. It got him the same results, including the laugh from Cipher once more.

“You’re having too much fun with this.” Dipper turned to glare at the demon, not even sure why the other was following him. “What kind of house is this? Why do you have doors that have bricks behind them?”

“What are you looking for?” Cipher asked instead, that condescending smirk still on his face as he looked over Dipper. 

“The kitchen, but I’m starting to think that you don’t even have one. Do demons need to eat?” Dipper asked instead. 

“I have a kitchen, but who am I to the whims of the manor? It can change easily and do as it wants.” Cipher gave him an easy smile and a shrug, a delicate rise and fall of his shoulders that even made Dipper look at him curiously. “It does what it wants, I have no control over it.”

“That sounds like a lie,” Dipper laughed, shaking his head. He opened another door, finally revealing just what he wanted. With a twist of his head, he gave Cipher a suspicious look, but still headed into the kitchen without much fuss. Hopefully, there would be food in there, because he was starving. Even if the demon didn’t need to eat, Dipper still did. 

Cipher was silent as Dipper walked through the kitchen, looking through the cabinets and the stove, seeing what items were there. Thankfully it seemed freshly stocked with food, but Dipper didn’t think too much of it. Knowing that Cipher had been waiting, possibly watching him for the right moment to demand him as a sacrifice, it was frightening, and terrible at the same time. There were a couple of eggs in the fridge, which Dipper pulled out with little fuss, mixing them in a bowl, and all the while Cipher silently watched him. It was a bit disconcerting, but the demon was able to do as he wished, and Dipper was nothing more than a strange guest in his home. An unwilling one, at that, but a guest nonetheless.

“Are you sure there aren’t other things for you to be doing? Watching me make food and clean your house has got to be boring.” Dipper laughed lightly, trying to relieve some of the silent tension that had fallen over them as he finished up his food. The kitchen had large windows in it, outside Dipper could see the waves crashing against the cliff, sending a sparkling wave of seafoam up with every breath. 

The village was just in sight beyond the spray of the sea, Dipper abandoned his bowl of eggs as he walked closer to the large bay windows. Cipher was silent as Dipper walked up, pressing his hand against the glass. It was cold, chillingly so, but he pressed himself more against it as he looked down at the village he had called home for so long. Was Mabel doing okay? Was Stan? Were they missing him quietly watching over the library, trying to ignore the fact that he wasn’t with them? The fact he was meant to be dead?

His hand left the window, and despite the chill that rested in his fingers from the glass there was no fog left on the windows, but his cold fingers went to cover his stomach instead. He could almost see the black ink of the scar-like tattoo on his chest through his shirt, but he ignored it. The mark wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, that was for sure. What appetite he did have was quickly diminishing, his mind thinking back to the pain, so vivid, but he pushed it aside. 

“Do you not like the view?” Cipher asked, his voice such a light, airy tone, but he obviously knew what he was asking. Dipper turned back to the stove, lighting it and letting it warm up before he poured the mix of eggs onto it. 

“It looks abandoned,” Dipper pointed out. Cipher shrugged. “When you healed me, there wasn’t anyone else there.”

“Plucking a soul from that dimension into this one is easier when the soul is near death,” Cipher ended up saying. “It doesn’t matter anymore, as far as the world out there is concerned, you are my lovely little sacrifice who did his job perfectly well.”

“Stop calling me that,” Dipper snapped, slamming the pan down a bit harder than he meant to as he turned back to Cipher. “I have a name, you burned it into the plaza.”

“You do, Mason Pines,” Cipher said, with too much amusement in his voice. “What makes me have to use it? I have taken many sacrifices before, all for different things, and whether you like it or not, I took you as a sacrifice, and your people handed you over.”

Whatever food he had was completely unappealing as he turned off the stove. Cipher watched him silently as Dipper stared at it, even pushing the pan away before he turned. Rain beat heavily against the windows once more, as though the storm had remembered that it should be raining and hadn’t meant to take a rest.

“I’m going to lay down,” Dipper said flatly. The demon rose, but Dipper was already heading out, rushing into the hall and away from Cipher. The demon didn’t follow after him, not a sound in his ears besides the rushing beat of his own heart. After dying, the sound had become a weird sanctuary for him, a reprieve from the rest of the world.

The demon didn’t come and find him later, when Dipper had stayed in his room for the rest of the day, or even after that when he finally felt brave enough to head back into the kitchen and make food. The remains of his breakfast were still there, and Dipper left them to rot as he stole some bread and cheese, determined that this time when he would go back to his room, he wouldn’t be coming out for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, feel free to check out my [tumblr](http://oilux.tumblr.com/) for more stuff! Also check out my patreon if you want to see some exclusive details and sneak peaks at upcoming chapters!


	5. Tears, they fall for myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Enjoy the next chapter, and be sure to let me know what you think!

When he woke in the morning, his eyes felt heavy with the tears he had shed once more the night before, thick and heavy like the rain that had been falling. His room had a large window that overlooked the ocean, even though he remembered so clearly being able to look out over his village before, whitecaps on the water rising and falling in a mystical pattern that would never be repeated. Dipper brushed the feeling of tears from his cheeks as he rose, only to go and sit by the window and stare out at the scenery.

He wouldn’t have been able to stand it if his room overlooked his village. Yet instead he was greeted with the ocean waves, the possibility of a bright blue sky, and a storm that seemed neverending. He missed the warm summer days when he and Mabel would explore the woods near their home, getting too close to the edge that they weren’t meant to go near.

Sometimes, he wondered if the world was truly as large as it was in the books he would read. He wondered if there were places with mountains so high they touched the clouds every day, or places where the ocean didn’t hit a cliff and it touched sand as well. He wondered if there were truly places where there was nothing but sand and heat, or places that snowed constantly.

All places, if they truly existed, he was never going to see.

Dipper hated crying. He hated the way it left his face hot and tears got everywhere, he hated that it stained cloth and the feeling lingered for hours. Yet it was all his mind wanted to do, to leave him defenseless and emotional. He tore himself away from the window, grabbing the heavy curtains and closing himself off from the ocean. The curtains were thick, dark, they blocked out most of the light and let out a small collection of dust from having not been moved in forever.

His stomach grumbled, but Dipper stubbornly ignored it as he considered crawling back in bed. It was warm, inviting, more so than the rest of the house had been, but he had a feeling that if he laid down, he wouldn’t be getting up again for a while. It was too easy to be lost in the temptation of melancholy and forget that somehow, he still had a life to live.

The mansion wasn’t as impressive as it had been before. With not a thought more than finding the kitchen, Dipper managed to do just that, finding it to be right down the hall from him. It looked immaculately clean, as though it had never been touched by a person before, and made Dipper wonder if demons truly had to eat, and if they didn’t, if this kitchen was just for Dipper’s benefit. Bread was quickly toasted on the stovetop after Dipper lit it, the edges becoming warm and brown. Dipper thankfully found butter in another cabinet, and ate his toast while he looked back out the window, his eyes drawn to it as though they had nowhere else to go.

The small little village still looked abandoned. There were no lamps lit in the windows, there were no people rushing through trying to avoid the rain, or farmers still working because farming didn’t take a day off for the rain. It looked empty, as though it had always been like that and was for show, empty little houses in a village that never inhabited anyone.

He missed Ford’s library. He missed breakfast with his family, he missed hearing Mabel talk about what she was going to knit and sew. Fresh tears sprung to his eyes as his bite of bread stuck to the roof of his mouth, sticking there like a lump and making it hard to swallow. Dipper refused to go down that train of thought again, to become a mess of tears that couldn’t do anything.

There wasn’t really much he could do though. Cipher had brought him here, in a house that was already clean, to be a servant. Dipper vaguely remembered reading about those sometimes in Mabel’s cliche romance novels, where a king would discover his true love was the maid he had never bothered to glance at twice.

A scoff left his lips as he thought about that happening to him. Cipher wasn’t exactly the grand king who ruled over the land, nor was he like the knights who would rescue the princesses from the dragons. He was a demon, and Dipper was a sacrifice that didn’t have a choice in the matter.

He left the kitchen, intent on finding something to clean with, at the very least a rag to pretend to dust with, Dipper ended up finding a whole closet full of cleaning supplies that looked like they had never been touched. He had only had experience cleaning the shack he lived in once or twice, but he supposed it couldn’t be that hard. What was cleaning anyway? Wiping down dust and sweeping, mopping away the dirt from their shoes.

Dipper grabbed a rag and a broom from the closet as well as a bucket to add water to. He found out the kitchen would give him hot water when he wanted, and he filled his bucket with ease, throwing his rag into it as he made his way back to the main room. It seemed smaller than he remembered.

The first thing that he did was wipe down the windows. It was hard to tell if he was getting all of the water from the windows, but he did his best to make sure that they sparkled as he drew the curtains closed as soon as they were cleaned, not even seeing any dust from the curtains.

“Why do you need someone to clean if there’s nothing here to clean?” Dipper muttered, shutting the heavy curtains with a bit more force than needed, having to fix them twice before they fell properly into place, blocking the light from outside.

Dipper jumped as the sound of something falling was heard, glancing around frantically but seeing nothing. A fire had lit itself in the hearth, bright and yellow, with glowing embers as though they had been there burning for a while. Dipper glanced around slowly, but saw nothing there.

“Hello?” Dipper called softly, almost hoping the demon wouldn’t appear. Having a moment alone would be so nice. “Cipher?”

“Yes?” The voice came from behind him, a hand moving the curtain and putting it back in place, showing off the village once more. Dipper yelped, jumping back and wincing as his back hit the window.

“Don’t do that!” Dipper scolded, automatically reaching out and lightly whacking Cipher’s arm like he would with Mabel. The demon arched a golden brow at him, a small smirk rising to his features as Dipper’s breath caught in his throat.

“Did I frighten you, my little sacrifice?” Cipher teased, brushing his arm off as though Dipper had left dirt there.

“Yes,” Dipper admitted after a moment, reaching back to rub the sore spot on his back. He scowled lightly, moving to go and close the window once more. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. What are you even doing?”

“You’re the one who called for me,” Cipher chuckled, staring at Dipper as he pulled the curtain closed. “You seem to be in better spirits than before.”

Dipper’s lips pursed together, wishing he hadn’t called out for the demon. He had probably only come to harass Dipper and nothing more. “This place is quiet, and I thought I heard something. You’re the only one here, aren’t you?”

“I’m the only one here,” Cipher said after a moment. He moved, opening the curtain again and letting the light in. Dipper huffed, walking forward and trying to close it again, to end their small little war over whether or not the curtain should be open, but the demon caught his wrist, a small snarl leaving his lips.

Cipher slammed Dipper back against the window, hand pinning Dipper’s wrist against the glass, shattering it. “The window stays open, Mason,” Cipher hissed, teeth bared. The human blinked at him, eyes wide with shock as something warm tricked between Cipher’s fingers, dripping down Dipper’s arm.

“The windows stay open, all of them,” Bill hissed again, glancing up as the glass repaired itself in the window before he could. Dipper made a noise, pushing harshly at Cipher and sending him sprawling back a few steps as he held his injured hand against his chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You couldn’t have just said that?” Dipper backed up from the window, looking Cipher up and down. His body shook slightly, his heart racing in his chest.

“The windows stay open for a reason,” Cipher said after a moment, reaching up and pushing his hair back from his face. It had fallen, disheveled against his forehead before he looked down at the human, his expression quickly turning blank.

Dipper nodded, not about to argue when he already had a bleeding wrist and bruises to count. His heart beat frantically in his chest as he moved back, still holding his wrist against his chest and ignoring the warm, wet feeling of blood seeping into his shirt. Blood dripped down his arm, dripping down his elbow onto the tiled floor.

Another step back, a slow one, Dipper glaring at the demon as he tried to calm his racing heart, his throat feeling tight. Dipper had gotten worse injuries from the bullies back in his village, when they had chased him with rocks in their hands and screaming at him for reading. And yet his heart didn’t race, his throat never tightened, and his hands hadn’t shaken like this. Cipher stared at him, reaching out for a moment before his gloved hand fell, clenching into a fist at his side.

“Go clean up,” Cipher said through gritted teeth, looking anywhere but at him. “Get out of here.”

Dipper didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and bolted away from the demon, barely managing to not trip over a random bucket that he had brought. Cipher didn’t follow after him, nor did he say a word, Dipper’s heart slowing as he shot up the stairs and through a door, not realizing it was his own.

The bathroom attached to his room had a sink, Dipper stuck his wrist under the water unceremoniously, wincing at the cold against his skin. He couldn’t see if glass had embedded in his skin, blood continued to bubble from his skin like a fountain, refusing to stop. His face felt hot when he finally pulled his arm out from underneath the water, not caring if he ruined a towel as he pressed it against his wrist. Besides the initial sting, it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

It was stupid. He was trapped with a demon. He had Cipher’s mark resting on his stomach where he was healed, brought back from the dead. A couple small marks on his wrist shouldn’t make him want to cry, shouldn’t make his face hot with tears and his eyes burn. He was trapped in a house with a demon, who had done this a thousand times before, with so many people that there wasn’t even a record of all of them.

And deep down, he knew he was lucky to have gotten away this time.

Dipper went back to his bed, not even bothering with bandages as he left the towel wrapped around his wrist. He was barely there for a second before he got out of bed, rushing over to his own window, grasping at the curtains.

Dipper paused.

Cipher had said this was his room. He could close the curtains in his room, Cipher couldn’t control him in his own room, Cipher didn’t _care_. Dipper set his jaw, yanking hard on the curtains and getting a shower of dust from the old material as it slid into its new place, blocking out the view of the ocean.

With it closed, Dipper ran his fingers over it one last time to make sure that every bit of light was gone, and then crawled back into bed. Tears were so much easier to ignore in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you're interested in reading all the chapters I have written in advance, come check out my patreon (linked on my tumblr!) and come support me! I have up to chapter 8 written!
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	6. Bloodied, a bond is mended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the wait folks, enjoy the chapter!

Blood overwhelmed the living room, a sharp smell that made his nose itch and his mouth water. The human stumbled from the room, rushing up the stairs, the door slammed and even Bill winced at that, firmly staying in place.

The scent of blood still hung heavily in the air, making him wish that he could change it, at least to open the window and get fresh air in, but he knew from experience that the lock wouldn’t budge on the door for Dipper anymore than it would for him.

A simple flick of his fingers, and the blood was cleaned from the floor, even as the scent still lingered. He could hear Dipper up in his room, tears still leaking from his eyes even in sleep, but there was nothing he could do about it. One of his many peek holes into the room let him see the human, the mound of blankets and everything piled together. 

“That was quite a show,” a voice came from the doorway. Bill’s head snapped in that direction, a glare on his face. He didn’t get many visitors, much less in the form of other demons, even less than those that he would call his friends. Tad Strange had never been one that would stand to the side.

“I was wondering when you would show up, Square.” Bill sighed and ran a hand over his face once more, pushing his bangs from his face. “What the fuck do you want?”

“To visit an old friend,” Tad said as he walked forward, going to settle in the extra chair that was there. He knew well not to sit in the chair that Dipper had sat in his first night there. Bill was more hesitant, moving forward and sitting across from Tad. The fire burned low in the hearth.

They sat in silence. Tad summoned a pot of tea and two glasses, pouring them both a cup of tea and giving Bill his cup. It was always the same tea set, with small flowers decorating the cups and leaves decorating the teapot. Bill remembered smashing it to a million pieces more than once.

“It’s happening quicker and quicker, isn’t it?” Tad eventually asked with a sigh. He sipped at his tea, not surprised when Bill sat his to the side. 

“Last time I got two months,” Bill eventually admitted. His hands clenched into fists against the arm of the chair, refusing to look at Tad. 

“His blood is already affecting you. The humans down in the city have lost a lot of their dfm0,p-knowledge, and your stories have helped them forget. He won’t know,” Tad explained. “They think you close to a god, not a demon.”

Bill grit his teeth. “It took a million stories and a million deals to make them forget. Each year, my time gets shorter and they get exactly what they want.”

Silence, again, and Bill nearly wanted to snap at Tad to leave, to forget about all of this. Yet so many demons had stopped visiting his home, his life, his prison, more than content to let him fall into the background and take the places he had left behind.

“He hasn’t been here for very long. Is it coming over you already?” 

“I smelled blood, I’m a demon. I don’t know any demon that would be able to resist that.” Bill let out a sharp laugh, hard with an edge but still hollow, like he was hollow inside as well. 

“They tell stories about you, good ones. That you’re a patron demon, who makes deals and can help out anyone who can give him the right price. Do you remember how you met him?” 

Tad could always do that. Bill felt himself fall into memories as they were pushed to the surface, unwilling to be ignored. It was cruel to those that were lost to forget them, to forget the details that were once held so dearly.

“It would be easier to ask me if I remember the day that I died,” Bill laughed, his voice a bit lighter. “You can’t tell me you don’t remember.”

“I remember,” Tad admitted after a moment. “I also know that remembering helps keep you calm. You have so many lifetimes of memories. What’s changed over the years? Everything seems to end so quickly for you now.”

Bill finally reached over, taking his tea and sipping at it. It was a distraction, but a distraction that Tad had given him. It was like they were friends, gathering together after a long day, but instead, they were demons, who were discussing lives like it was no big deal and changes that affected more people than it did them.

“It does,” Bill eventually admitted, sipping more tea instead of saying anything further. “Do you remember, when the people of that town came together and thought that they should sacrifice a pig to you so they would have plentiful crops?”

Tad snorted in laughter, lips pursing a moment later to keep the guffaws at bay. He remembered it clearly, when they had thought that sacrificing a dirty old pig would make him any less upset that they had taken down the previous offerings to him, but Bill had found so much amusement in it, that it was hard to look back on the memories with anger. 

“I remember quite well. I also remember when you had that woman summon you only to tell you that she was in love with you?” Tad crossed his legs neatly in his lap, an easy smile on his face. “Almost as entertaining as when you had a man summon you to get revenge on the woman who refused his hand in marriage. Even I heard about you tearing him limb from limb.”

And easily, they fell into conversation, talking about memories that were so close against each other, closer than they remembered until they were talking about it, and their memories were so close that they would sometimes remember being there, in the same room with another, but neither of them knowing it at the time. 

They talked for hours with each other until Tad had refilled the teapot multiple times and finally, after many days, the rain outside stopped as well. Bill had an easy smile on his face, remembering things that he hadn’t thought of in ages, and remembered all the people he had met. Tad had even told him updates about the outside world, what had happened, and what demons were still around. Not all could be thought of as a patron demon like Bill was.

They talked for a while, until finally there was a noise, both demons looking up to see Dipper there, hand still wrapped in a towel and tear tracks staining his face. Dipper looked as though he had just been peeking in, but was frozen there, staring at Tad and Bill.

“I thought you were still sleeping,” Bill said with a sigh, setting his cup aside. Dipper scowled, mouth drawn into a tight line.

“You’re so rude, Cipher,” Tad chuckled, rising from his seat. There was an unusual spark in his eyes, a mischievous light that Bill hadn’t seen in ages. 

In a few, long steps, Tad stood in front of Dipper, clicking his tongue as he took the humans hand, unwrapping the towel and pulling Dipper further until the room, sitting him down in the chair Tad had just been sitting in. 

The scent of dried blood wasn’t as potent as it was when it was freshly spilled, but Bill still breathed through his mouth as he watched the scene unfold before him. Tad was careful, ignoring the hisses of pain as he slowly removed the bloodied towel and set it side.

“Rather deep, for your kind. A few bandages and it’ll be all fixed,” Tad murmured. Dipper kept glancing at Bill, eyes uncertain, as though asking the demon he barely trusted if he should trust the one he didn’t know at all.

Bill snapped his fingers, giving Tad everything he needed to patch him up. A part of him was forlorn, aching, knowing that he should be the one to watch over Dipper. That was his human, that was his sacrifice to take care of. Tad glanced at him, shaking his head.

“You hurt the human, you should take care of it,” Tad said callously. He moved and sat down once more. 

Dipper curled up on himself once more, injured wrist clutched to his chest before Bill rose, sitting down once more next to the human. Humans were so fragile, he had seen smaller cuts that had been damaging enough to where the human never recovered. Bill reached over, taking Dipper’s hand with his own, and used a damp rag to clean away the dried blood.

“I didn’t know you had company,” Dipper said slowly after a moment. It was cold, but the meaning was clear. ‘I would have stayed upstairs if I had known.’

“Did you miss me that much, my little sacrifice?” Bill teased, his voice light. He put a salve over the cuts, making sure that he covered every inch of the cuts so that they would heal properly. 

“No, I didn’t,” Dipper muttered. “I heard voices and I couldn’t find the kitchen. This place is a maze and I don’t like it.”

“They never do, in the beginning,” Tad said that time. He stared at the fire, like the dancing flames were enrapturing, and Bill supposed, in a way that it was. 

“Thank you, Tad, you’ve been an excellent help tonight.” Bill gave his friend a glare, finally picking up the bandages he had. He took his time to wrap them around Dipper’s wrist, the human’s skin was warm against his own. 

“Tad?” Dipper asked. Bill gave a dramatic sigh, knowing what his friend was like, even as the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Tad Strange, at your service. Demon of chance and the unknown.” Tad rose quickly, offering a low bow with a smile on his face. 

The action made a smile tug on Dipper’s lips, just as Bill finished with the bandages, and with a light pat to the human's wrist, he pulled back and was done. The human seemed more than ready to have his space, but he didn’t curl in on himself again. 

“Now, what has Cipher taken you in for this time?” Tad asked Dipper, sitting down and leaning a bit closer to him. Bill didn’t like it one bit, but he did enjoy the way his sacrifices eyes darted over to him, silently asking what he should say. 

“I need a housekeeper,” Bill answered for Dipper. The human's shoulders slumped pathetically, like he was disappointed with what Bill had said. 

“That’s what you’re going with now?” Tad chuckled. “Do your people, Dipper, remember why Cipher asks for a sacrifice every century?”

Bill gave Tad a cold look, while Dipper’s eyebrows furrowed together. This was not the time or the place for it to be brought up, and as Dipper opened his mouth, Bill found himself already speaking, not wanting to hear what stories Dipper had been fed.

“Someone in your small little village had summoned me,” Bill said quickly. The tea was cold, and the fire burned low in the fireplace. Bill made both burn brighter with a wave of his hand. “I answered, and struck up a deal. I would stay and watch over the town, answer any questions or make a deal without ripping someone off, as long as I got a sacrifice, once every one hundred years. I got a sacrifice to do whatever I pleased with. Your little village was quick to comply, and here we are.”

Dipper nodded, his brows furrowing slightly as he looked over Bill with critical eyes. Bill met his gaze with confidence, challenging the human to say anything to contradict him. The original stories for himself were old, needed translation, and no human had spoken those stories in centuries.

“Have you heard something different, Dipper?” 

Tad leaned a head against his hand, a small smirk on his face as he looked at the human. Dipper glanced back and forth between the two demons, his teeth sinking into his lower lip and chewing on the flesh gently.

“I haven’t, no,” Dipper confessed. Bill let his shoulders sag, leaning back into his chair. In a way, he almost felt disappointed.

Dipper didn’t know to need to think about the truth, of fire and blood and the origins, and the way the world once was. The human glanced at him, and Bill could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to pick up every detail and memorize it for later. Bill offered nothing more than a lazy smirk, crossing his legs as he sipped his tea.

Tad asked Dipper a question, going off in a tangent, and Bill let himself fade in his memories without really falling into them.

The time he had was too precious to waste a minute of it thinking about other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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**Author's Note:**

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